Teeth Are People Too

Humor, Lifestyle, People

You may have noticed I have been a little absent lately. This is because I got busy. But in an outside of the bedroom kind of way. I have had this new, unheard of, version of writer’s block. Instead of not having enough things to write, I have had way too many.

I don’t even know where to start.

Breakfast this morning?

My trip to the dentist?

The movies last night?

Endless.

Possibilities.

Breakfast this morning?

I didn’t have it.

My trip to the dentist?

He told me I had a wild tongue. No really. Wild. It was way more appalling than seeing fifty shades of boring last night.

The movies last night?

Weak. Like me after an afternoon jog down the street.

So the other day at work, my coworker whose name is foreign to me (and every other American for that matter) really got under my skin. I decided to wear my headband horizontally, hippie style, right? Chic, I know.

He has the audacity to ask me, “Why are you wearing tiara?”

I knew exactly what he meant, but I was way more into playing dumb.

“What are you talking about?” I said to this foreign named gentleman with a snippy mouth.

“When you wear like this (makes hand gestures towards my headband), it is crown, no?” said this stupid freak in broken English.

“No, it’s just a headband A******.”

Keep in mind, I did not call him an asshole, his name just starts with an “A” and is legitimately that many letters long. Convenient though right?

If I were a princess, I would’ve smited (smitten? sp?) him. I mean banished him to his own country. Sorry I got religion and government confused…

Because that never happens.

Anyhow, he got on my nerves. And so did that fucking god- awful shot of anesthetic my dentist gave me.

There he is. Staring at me. Right up close. Looking into my mouth — my nose. Like he owns the place! Then sticks a needle into my gums like the corner of the sharpest freaking tortilla chip on the planet.

Ouch.

I have feelings ya know? Teeth are people too.

Of course he knows that, this sorry excuse for a doctor. He has to know that I didn’t drink all that soda, eat all that chocolate and watch all that television for nothing.

I did all of that so that someday, preferably on a Thursday morning an hour before work, I could come to his office and feel the deep deep drilling of his….whoah no, sorry I mixed up the movies last night with the dentist.

Fifty shades of grey. Where was the deep deep drilling I had my heart set on seeing? Ugh. Fan fiction.

I dragged 5 of my friends to see the late showing of what I hoped would be eyebrow raising, goosebump causing, nail polish removing sexual tension and just…no. No.

God fuck this shit. I’m tired of working. I’m tired of shelling out $40 a week at the dentist. And mostly I’m tired of you sons of bitches not leaving me any comments. All this social media is everyone just trying to connect to one another!

So leave a fucking comment…connect four style!

P.S. I’ll post more often. In the words of some hip- hop artist I’m unaware of, this new writer’s block “got me like whoah” .

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Or In Case Vegans Decide To Overthrow The Government…

College, Dating, Humor, Lifestyle, People, Relationships

I arrived home Friday night mostly wondering why the Lords of Dogtown cast was in my living room including but not limited to my roomie Connor, the fire whisperer, my boss, a coworker, and some guy who said our apartment could be a sitcom.

He was like, “You guys, a boy and a girl not dating, live in a badass loft apartment above a youth ministry service in walking distance from a quaint pub,” and I was like Hmmm, I don’t see your angle.  

Regardless, I knew it was a man’s world and I needed to peace the fuck out.  I put on my warpaint and left with my best gal pal Julie for a night on the town…only to meet up with the same boys later because really, who can stay away from boys?

To my great pleasure, I got drunk and I’m pretty sure I even announced a cheers to my bedroom being the place to be with both Dean and the fire whisperer (remember Dean?  See post: Who The Fuck Is In My Bed Right Now?).  In fact, I am certain that I should just share one great big bar picnic table with all my ex-boyfriends including the fire whisperer, the never boyfriend, my ex-roommates, current roommates, ex-friends, current friends, and hell let’s throw in my family and just make a night of it.  Who’s in?

First round is not on me.

It was a fun night only to be followed by an anything but epic Saturday watching the movie Divergent with my roommate Connor.  I explained to him how much I loved girl power movies like this because it got me all psyched up.  Why do you think I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer for like 14 solid years of my life?

After watching movies like this, I go through these intense training phases where I do push-ups in my room and go jogging late at night listening to Eye of the Tiger…just in case I am the legendary vampire slayer prodigy, a zombie apocalypse is going to arise or in case vegans decide to overthrow the government (the most likely if you ask me).

Then, of course, there is the romance aspect of all these girl power movies.  I had to again explain to Connor that there is nothing better than a romantic rescue from a dreamy man my age.  In fact, I often consider putting myself in more danger just to increase my chances of being rescued.

I asked Connor what might be some potential rescue opportunities.  He suggested needing my oil changed, running out of gas, getting a flat tire, dead car battery, blown tire, overheated engine, small leak, and so on…I was like I’m sensing a pattern.  After naming every car-related rescue known to mankind, I was like I GET IT!

I am certainly not opposed to watching a guy fix my car…so long as he is shirtless, single, and actually capable of fixing my car.  I don’t have time for impostors, but perhaps an exception could be made depending on how similarly said impostor looks to Jared Leto.  Yes.  Exceptions can be made.

Connor must have felt pretty psyched up himself after watching the movie Divergent because he started punching me repeatedly in the leg all weekend.  Nothing like a good thigh punch to start your day…and continue it all day long…and end it as well.  Forget car-related rescues, anyone interested in rescuing me from my roommate’s left hook directed at my lower appendages?  What, no takers?  Awesome.

Oh and did I forget to mention Thursday’s laundry debacle?  By that, I am referring to using my only two girlfriend’s in town for their washer and dryer…which would’ve been great if I hadn’t waltzed in like I owned the place when one of them wasn’t home.

No worries, I was only to be greeted by one of her male roommate’s and the editor of the school newspaper.  Oh hey.  Just tryin to get those towels out of the dryer.  Pretend I’m not here..which I know firsthand is difficult because I’m trying really hard to do the same thing.  I was on my last sock and desperate times call for desperate measures.  Sometimes you have to use your friends for all they are worth…right?  Someone fucking confirm I am right.  Please.

It is now monday, which I formally attempted to cancel but was denied higher consent.  Drinks have been drank.  Cheers have been made.  My laundry is done.  My beaten legs have healed… And I missed a meeting, showed up a half hour late for a shift at work I did not know I had, and even managed to mess up a great opportunity…but fuck…It is monday after all.  We all have to start somewhere right?

FYI: I would love to start somewhere that involves lots and lots of commentary…you feel me?